No, Bessie should have her lover, and she should never know what it had cost her to give him up; and as for herself, well, she must go away like a wounded buck, and hide till she got well--or died.
She laughed a drear little laugh, and stayed to brush her hair just as the broad lights of the dawn came streaming across the misty veldt.

But she did not look at her face again in the glass; she cared no more about it now.

Then she threw herself down to sleep the sleep of utter exhaustion before it was time to go out again and face the world and her new sorrow.
Poor Jess! Love's young dream had not overshadowed her for long.

It had tarried just three hours.

But it had left other dreams behind.
"Uncle," said Jess that morning to old Silas Croft as he stood by the kraal-gate, where he had been counting out the sheep--an operation requiring much quickness of eye, and on the accurate performance of which he greatly prided himself.
"Yes, yes, my dear, I know what you are going to say.